


Under the Mask

by himynameisv



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Selective Muteness, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himynameisv/pseuds/himynameisv
Summary: Everyone thought it was due to trauma over his mother's death. Joe knew better. AU with mute!Barry. One-shot.Originally posted on fanfiction.net.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Joe West
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Under the Mask

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [On the Decided Importance of Speaking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212185) by [iamthegps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthegps/pseuds/iamthegps). 



> This was inspired by this documentary I found on Youtube about selective mutism. It's probably one of the only documentaries I've watched pretty much all the way through; and by the end, I was rooting for those girls, so proud of the one that actually spoke to the camera at the end (even though I don't even know her). So...I guess I maybe wanted to raise awareness? Somehow, about this topic? And thus, this was born.
> 
> I'm not exactly sure if I did it justice, or if I was even that accurate considering I don't have any personal experience with this, but I tried.
> 
> If you want to read another fic on selective mutism, then I suggest "On the Decided Importance of Speaking," by iamthegps, for the Merlin fandom. These fics aren't that alike, but the other one has some heartwarming Merthur bromance and I'm a sucker for that.
> 
> Please read and review!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Flash nor any of its characters.

Barry had always been a semi-quiet kid, only speaking up whenever he had something significant to say, but sometimes going on long rants regarding a topic he was passionate about.

Then his mother died.

The psychologists and therapists thought it was due to trauma over her death. They thought it was a coping mechanism for the sudden loss of a mother (and father) figure. Joe knew better. He knew that Barry had only stopped talking two weeks after that dreaded night. He knew how many times Barry had tried to run away and visit his dad and proclaim his innocence. He knew Barry had become discouraged when nobody would listen. So he had just...stopped talking, because it didn't seem like his voice mattered anymore.

It was heartbreaking, to say the least.

But Joe was colored surprised a few days later when Iris had nonchalantly let it slip that yes, Barry was still talking. But only to her and his father. (Joe didn't think it was a coincidence that those two were the only two who believed his story of the Man in Yellow.)

He could only sigh as he watched Barry navigate this seemingly new life without his mother and father. He was already being bullied for being a murderer's son, but now with the silence? The bullying simply got worse.

Joe did what he could, though.

Sticky notes became Barry's go-to way of communication for people he didn't feel comfortable talking to. And yes, Joe knew it wasn't entirely healthy for his mental and emotional health, that this silence going on for too long could potentially be a bad thing.

But he also knew that Barry needed this time to grow, and to try to find his place in the world after it had been flipped upside down for him. Hounding him and asking him when he'd start talking again wasn't going to help.

He'd talk when he was ready. (He was the only one who knew when that time would be.)

And if that meant Joe's expenses were filled with orders upon orders of sticky notes, then so be it.

After a time, Barry even began taking up sign language. Joe and Iris offered to learn with him. Their first attempts were disastrous, and it was a rocky start, but eventually the threesome got the hang of it, courtesy of random online classes. (It had been a hassle, but Barry's smile was worth it.)

Joe eventually ended all the therapist appointments. They didn't seem to be helping (especially considering Barry didn't want to talk to them...which was understandable). The house had had a different energy in the days after, like Barry was buzzing with joy and it was infectiously filling the house. It seemed that he was finally free, and Joe knew it had been the right choice, no matter what he said about the Man in Yellow. (His happiness mattered more.)

It was Father's Day a month later, the first Father's Day since his dad had been put in prison. After a disastrous attempt at breakfast, courtesy of Iris, Joe drove Barry to Iron Heights (like he had on Mother's Day). He was expecting the same moody drop off and silent ride, but when they got to their destination, Barry hesitantly smiled at him. He slipped Joe a handmade card, said, "Happy Father's Day, Joe," and then he was off.

It had been just above a whisper, but Joe would always remember that moment in which Barry manged to trust him again. Trust him enough to share his voice. (When Barry came back, Joe pretended that he hadn't cried in the car waiting for him.)

After that day and the many days to come, Joe would be so very proud as Barry grew and opened up and smiled more and got a job and - and got struck by lightning.

And with the Flash came setbacks.

Setbacks like the singularity and Henry's death and Flashpoint and going into the speed force for six months and going into prison as an innocent man and so much - so much more. When would all the attacks stop? When would life stop beating up one Barry Allen? When would all the pain become too much for the impossible?

Joe had always noticed that Barry's communication fluctuated with his emotions. There were days when he was so excited or happy about something that he couldn't seem to stop talking or stop signing or stop rapidly writing on his beloved sticky notes, depending on the people around him (superspeed was definitely useful for this). But then there were days when he'd curl up into himself and wouldn't talk to them at all.

After finding out Reverse Flash's identity and all that singularity mess, Barry pushed them all away. He still talked, but not to Iris and Caitlin out of guilt (he had inadvertently taken away Eddie and Ronnie, after all). Joe had eventually eased him into talking with them again with one of his esteemed pep talks. In retrospect, guilt tripping somebody who was already guilt tripping himself probably wasn't the best idea, but the silence had been hurting all three of them.

And after Henry's death, Barry had went as far as physically isolating himself. He had taken it that badly. Barry's first time speaking after that was a sobbed, "I'm sorry," to Joe.

After Flashpoint, Barry couldn't even look Cisco in the eye, let alone talk to him. Eventually, they made up, but the silence between them had been suffocating for everyone.

The worst time was probably after getting him out of the speed force. He hadn't been able to speak with them even if he tried. They didn't know what was wrong with him, and they couldn't even decode that speed force language thing correctly ('cause Joe was sure Barry was trying to communicate with them that way). But then Barry came back to them. And things seemed...okay, for a while.

Then Devoe and prison came, and Barry was most definitely not okay. He didn't speak during his entire time there, which didn't exactly raise his popularity. And afterwards, he'd forget sometimes that he was free. There were days when he just wouldn't speak. And yes, they all accepted that. They knew he needed time. They knew speaking wasn't exactly an easy thing for him, and they were glad that they had been accepted into that tiny circle whom he trusted. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt, seeing him like this. Joe's heart sunk as he realized the happiness and innocence in Barry's eyes had finally reached a tipping point, had finally dimmed. He was scared that the Barry that had gone in wasn't the same Barry that had come out of prison.

It wasn't okay. But it would be.

Because, even though he wasn't ready to speak to everybody, they were all ready to listen.

Sure, he had been brought a lot of pain and misery with the Flash, but he had also been brought people that became his friends, became his family.

When Barry had woken up after nine months, Caitlin had thought his muteness was a medical defect of the coma. Joe had quickly assured her otherwise, and years later, they'd all laugh about her reaction.

It had only taken Barry a month to trust her and Cisco enough to speak. His life was in their hands, after all. If that wasn't a sign of trust, Joe didn't know what was. (There was also the matter of comms, which were much easier to use if...you know, you actually spoke into them.)

Unfortunately, with Caitlin and Cisco came Dr. Wells.

Needless to say, Barry was much more wary of trusting others after that. (Well, he trusted Jay enough to let him on the team; but not enough to let him hear his voice.)

Jesse and Harry only ever heard him laugh. It had been enough.

HR heard his voice for the first (and last) time right before he died.

A few weeks after the night of Henry's death, when Wally found out who the Flash really was, Barry was mindlessly watching TV in the West household. Joe watched as Wally came in and handed him a bottle of water. "Thanks, Wally," came a quiet but sincere reply, with a small smile that meant so much more than just a bottle of water.

"You're welcome," came the strangled reply.

Devoe's mindscape probably hadn't been the best time for Ralph to hear Barry's voice, but they had been running out of time, and Ralph had previously been thought dead to the whole world.

Cecile had been next. It hadn't been anything momentous, but Joe watched as she felt her chest swell up with love for this brave but young man as he did everything he could for a city that tried to destroy him at every turn.

Sherloque never heard Barry's voice. He accepted that, despite his demeanor of indifference. Besides, Barry had always been one to wear his emotions on his face.

But nobody could beat the whopping one day it took for Barry to talk to Nora.

Crossovers were the worst, though. So many different heroes and good people working with him for the same goal, yet he couldn't seem to open his mouth and talk. Joe probably wasn't as worried for Barry as he should've been, though. He had Oliver and Felicity. (Kara was eventually added to the list.)

And then there was Central City.

Being a superhero meant the people wondered. Vibe and Frost and Elongated Man had never been shy about answering questions and encouraging others (well...Frost was getting there), but nobody had ever heard the Flash speak. Public speculation was high, and the only question out there was 'Why?' There were even some criticizers, and though Barry was never really bothered by them, they were soon shut up by Iris West-Allen's article regarding the Flash and selective mutism.

After that, the Flash worked up the courage to start 'talking' to the people, with red and yellow sticky notes stuck in random places to put a smile on people's faces (then picked up and thrown into recycling bins because no, the Flash did not encourage littering), and sign language to anyone who understood.

And if the police force noticed that the Flash and the CSI upstairs had the same habits, well...nobody mentioned it. Except for Captain Singh.

Sometimes, Joe looks at Barry and still sees that scared little boy he was when he had first come into Joe's household.

But then Barry dons his red suit and saves someone or gets hurt, and Joe's reminded that his son's all grown up now.

And later, Joe will tentatively ask Barry, "Why'd you decide to trust me that Father's Day? Why'd you decide to trust any of us enough to talk to us?"

And Barry will laugh and his face will brighten up and he will say, "It was never about trust, Joe. It was about love."


End file.
